


Step-Bird

by SmileAndASong



Category: DC Extended Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Bat Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Engagement, Fluff, Happy Ending, Just Married Exchange, M/M, Step-parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-23 11:30:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20007589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmileAndASong/pseuds/SmileAndASong
Summary: Becoming a step-parent is hard, but it’s especially difficult when you're the same age as your new step-son.[AKA, Clark Kent is terrified of meeting his fiancé's son, Dick Grayson]





	Step-Bird

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salazarastark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazarastark/gifts).



> This fic was written for the Just Married Exchange for salazarastark who requested a fic about Clark becoming a step-parent. 
> 
> I wanted to focus on the age difference between Clark and Bruce, something that my giftee really loves about the DCEU SuperBat canon, especially the awkwardness of Clark becoming a step-parent to someone who is more or less his age. I did borrow from the comics canon and assume that Bruce was relatively young (in his mid-20s) when he took Dick in. 
> 
> I did want to incorporate Tim and/or Damian somehow, but I couldn't figure out a feasible way to explain their presence (or rather, absence) in the film-verse canon. I did, however, manage to squeeze in one of Bruce's other birds, or at least references to him ;)! That being said, this fic completely ignores Zack Snyder's comment about the suit in BvS being a reference to Dick Grayson.
> 
> Hopefully, this is everything you were hoping for with your request, salazarastark! It was my first time writing DCEU SuperBat, and I had a lot of fun doing it : )

“You ready to order yet, honey?”

Clark looked up at the friendly waitress who had already checked on him three times now. He smiled politely, shaking his head. “Not yet, sorry. I’m still waiting for someone to arrive.” 

The waitress’ eyes wandered ostentatiously down to the shiny diamond on Clark’s left finger. “Someone special, I take it?”

“Yes, someone very special.” Clark's smile widened as he gently ran his thumb along the delicate gold band.

“Well, they better be for keeping you waiting like this. At this rate, you’re gonna tear through our entire supply of napkins.” The waitress gestured to the small mountain of torn paper on Clark's right.

Clark flushed, clumsily covering the pile with his big hands. 

The waitress giggled, shaking her head. “Well, while we wait, let’s at least get some coffee in you. I’ll be right back.”

Clark thanked her, looking out the window as he heard the sound of a new car pulling into the parking lot of Rube’s Diner. It was a sleek, black Mercedes; the latest model and with an absurd amount of custom work put in it to ensure that it was the best of the best. Certainly not the type of car that typically parked outside of the humble Gotham diner, but out of it stepped exactly who Clark expected would -- his fiancé, Bruce Wayne, and his soon to be step-son, Dick Grayson.

Nerves weren’t exactly something that Clark was used to. It’s hard to be truly scared of anything when you can catch a plane with your bare hands or shoot burning rays from your eyes. But as Clark watched Bruce and Dick enter the restaurant, his stomach tied into one big knot and he immediately grabbed a fresh napkin from the dispenser, shredding it to pieces in a matter of seconds. For once, the only heartbeat Clark could hear was his own, blaring in his ear like a parade drum.

Bruce scanned the somewhat quiet diner, his face lighting up when he caught sight of Clark. He made his way over, greeting Clark with an affectionate peck on the lips. “You’re early.”

“And for once, you’re right on time,” Clark said, looking at the time on the silver watch on Bruce’s wrist: ten o’clock sharp. “Diana will never believe me when I tell her that you weren’t late to something for once.”

“Well, this is an important morning. It’s not every day that I get to enjoy the company of my two favorites.” Bruce stood upright, sliding his arm around Dick’s shoulders. “It's long overdue, but I'd like you to meet my boy, Dick.”

Dick extended a hand out to Clark. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Clark. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Clark quickly clamored to his feet and shook Dick’s hand. “Likewise. Thanks again for coming all the way out from Bludhaven to join us for brunch. Hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you.”

“Nah, no trouble at all!” Dick assured. “Coming out here was a win-win! Not only do I get to meet the illustrious Clark Kent, but I also get a Rube’s waffle! Best waffles you’ll ever have, I guarantee it.”

“Don’t let Alfred hear you say that. He spent years perfecting his waffle batter just for you, and the last thing he needs is something else to be bitter about.” Bruce slid into the booth beside Clark, and Dick took the seat across from them. He eyed the pile of torn napkins, cocking a brow at Clark.

Clark just grinned sheepishly, not so subtly pushing the pile behind the dispenser as he reached for the menus tucked behind the old fashioned jukebox and handed them out. He opened his own menu, pretending to leaf through and consider the different omelet selections, when in actuality, he was looking right through it and examining Dick instead. 

X-Ray vision came in handy sometimes

Hardly the best use of his power -- although he’s definitely used it for worse -- but it was sure better than getting caught gawking stupidly at Dick.

He looked older than he did in the photos. Prettier, that’s for sure, but definitely older, with smile lines by his eyes and a handful of greys in his hair, just barely visible under the diner’s bright fluorescent lights. Now Clark hadn’t been expecting Robin the Boy Wonder in his tacky yellow and neon green glory, but he didn’t think Dick would look so...adult. 

And so glaringly obvious that he was only Clark’s junior by four years.

“Well, look who decided to show up!” A voice exclaimed, the sudden presence pulling Clark out of his intent staring and making him jolt slightly. He glanced up and saw the same waitress from before, carrying a tray with the promised cup of coffee on it. “I take it this the special someone you were talking about?”

“Yeah, this is him,” Clark said proudly, looking at Bruce with fond eyes. 

“Well! You’ve got quite yourself quite the man here!” She said to _Dick_ , clapping a hand on his shoulder. “He’s polite, handsome, and as patient as could be! A touch nervous, but who _isn’t_ before a wedding! Oh, the two of you make a lovely couple. So tell me, when’s the big day?”

“Woah! I uh, no...you’ve got it all wrong, ma’am,” Dick laughed nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “You see, he’s not my, uh...well, he’s--”

“Actually, I’m the one who’s going to marry him,” Bruce interjected calmly. “But yes, you’re right, he is quite the man, and I’m extremely lucky to call him mine.”

“Oh!” The waitress squeaked, her cheeks turning nearly as crimson as the glass ketchup bottle beside Clark. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I just assumed that...well, because the two of them are the same, uh, you know, and you being -- oh! Why you’re Bruce Wayne! I didn’t even know you were engaged, sir.”

Clark winced, sinking down into his seat. He’s never felt more tempted to forsake his secret identity altogether, if only so he could fly far away from this moment. 

But Bruce didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He looked completely relaxed as he responded to the waitress’ floundering. “It’s a recent development, and we haven’t exactly announced it yet. I’d appreciate it if you kept it on the down-low?” 

“Of course!” She agreed immediately. “All the privacy you need is yours. We won’t seat anyone else in this section. I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry. I...were you gentleman ready to order?”

The three of them nodded and quickly put in their orders. After she finished jotting it all down, she apologized one final time before sprinting off to the kitchen as if she were running a marathon.

“So!” Dick said cheerfully once she was gone. “I never actually said it, but congratulations on the engagement!”

“Thank you,” Clark said, relieved and grateful for Dick’s ability to brush off that awkward moment. “I’m just sorry that it happened before I got the chance to meet you. It’s something I’ve wanted for awhile, but seemed like our schedules kept conflicting.”

“Yeah, well, the capes keep us all pretty busy,” Dick kept his voice low, but as promised by their frazzled waitress, there was no one within earshot. Though it was always better to be safe rather than sorry when discussing their secret identities.

Clark had given the okay for Bruce to reveal him to Dick a few months ago. But much like Clark and Dick, Superman and Nightwing hadn’t crossed paths yet either. To Clark’s knowledge, Nightwing strictly operated in Bludhaven and independently, which explained his absence from the League. That, or maybe a certain Papa Bat just didn’t want his little bird involved in the danger that came with the League.

Clark was more inclined to believe the latter.

“Still, it must’ve been somewhat of a surprise to hear that your Da--” Clark stopped himself before the word got out because he wasn’t sure -- did Dick call Bruce ‘Dad’? Bruce technically wasn't old enough to be Dick's biological father, but he always spoke of Dick with that distinct paternal pride. But was the word ‘son’ used? He couldn't remember.

Better play it safe then.

“--that your, uh, Bruce, got engaged to someone you’ve never met. Let alone some farm boy alien.” Clark joked, and Dick blinked at him, a bemused look on his face. 

Clark wasn’t sure if that was because of the fact that he had referred to Dick’s father as ‘his Bruce’ or because of the poor attempt at humor.

Probably both.

But Dick regained himself quickly, letting out a laugh that only sounded slightly forced. “Yeah, it was a bit of a shock. Considering that he gave me _zero_ indication that he was going to propose to you at all.”

Clark chuckled. “If it makes you feel any better, he didn’t give me any indication either.”

“If it makes both of you feel any better, I didn’t even give myself any indication that I was going to do it,” Bruce admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “But when you narrowly avoid death at the hands of Deathstroke, I guess you say and do what you truly mean.” He smiled faintly at Clark and kissed him chastely. 

Clark blushed and somewhat reluctantly returned the kiss. Public (or semi-public, as no one was seated around them) displays of affection always made him slightly nervous, but doing so in front of Dick felt especially awkward.

But Dick, he didn’t look like he minded at all, that warm smile still plastered across his face. It seemed so natural on him, like it was a permanent feature on his face, like he was always exuding an abundance of joy. It was downright infectious, and Clark slowly found himself growing more relaxed and comfortable around Dick as the conversation continued. 

Clark listened attentively to the many stories that Bruce and Dick took turns telling him, more than relieved to have the attention off of him and his bumbling. That, and it felt nice to be entrusted with such deep, intimate and personal stories. Clark didn’t think he would ever tire of watching the bond between father and son. Though he still was unsure if those were the proper titles.

He’d figure it out soon. Hopefully.

The waitress soon returned with their orders, and now that those pesky butterflies were out of his stomach, Clark realized just how hungry he was.

Thanking her politely, Clark took his plate and dug into his big Belgian waffle, topped high with fresh strawberries. Normally, Clark was more of a pancake guy, but Dick had been raving about the waffles and the goal was to get Dick to like him, so waffles it was!

And true to Dick’s word, it was absolutely delicious. Maybe this breakfast wasn’t going so bad after all!

“So Clark, how’s the kid?”

Well, it had been nice while it lasted.

Clark abruptly swallowed his mouthful of fruit, clearing his throat. “I uh, don’t have any kids,” He mumbled. “And that’s not something that we—“ he gestured between himself and Bruce. “—have discussed. Not that in opposed or anything, but it’s a little early to—“

“No, no, I meant the new kid in the superhero game. The guy out in Philadelphia! Captain Sparkle Fingers?” Dick asked. “Bruce said that you were showing him the ropes, being kind of a superhero mentor?”

Clark let out a relieved sigh. “Right, him. He’s doing good! A little messy with his powers and overconfident, but he’s on his way to being one of the greats.”

“That’s awesome!” Dick's lips curled up into a smirk. “Sorry, didn't mean to give you a side of panic with your waffles. ‘Kid’ probably wasn’t the best descriptor for a guy who looks bigger and older than me."

Clark stifled a laugh; if only Dick knew how appropriate ‘kid’ was when it came to describing Billy Batson, but Clark wasn’t about to out the boy’s identity without his consent. 

“But it’s nice to know that you’re not opposed to kids,” Bruce mused, taking a sip of his coffee. “That could be something to consider in the future. After the wedding, of course.”

“Really?” Clark asked, a bewildered look on his face. “You’d want to raise a kid with me?”

“Of course I would.” Bruce frowned. “Why do you seem so surprised by that? You’d be a great father, Clark.”

“I don’t know, I just thought you wouldn't want to raise another kid, especially after what happened to--”

Clark didn’t finish the sentence. He regretted even starting it as he watched Bruce’s and Dick’s expressions both immediately drop in unison. And while the name hadn’t been spoken, it didn’t need to be. 

They both knew who Clark was referring to.

Bruce's trembling hand grew warm in Clark’s. He slowly pulled away, reaching across the table taking hold of Dick’s hand and squeezing it tightly. They both hung their heads low, in a way that sadly seemed familiar to them both. Like they did it often, like they would never truly be done mourning him.

The light, jovial atmosphere that had been present for the majority of breakfast was gone, and in its place was something tense and somber. All thanks to Clark and his big mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Clark said after a brief silence. “I didn’t mean to...I shouldn’t have--”

“It’s fine,” Bruce replied somewhat stiffly. “It’s been almost ten years since it happened. You’d think we’d be better about this...” He laughed joylessly, bitterly.

“No, no. Don’t blame yourselves,” Clark insisted. “You guys lost someone special. Time may heal all wounds, but that doesn’t mean there are no scars left behind. And here I am, insensitively pointing them out.” 

“Really, it’s okay,” Dick said, his voice hoarse. “We know that you didn’t mean it with any bad intentions.”

“Yes, but I do know better than to say something like _that_ ,” Clark sighed, running a frustrated hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, Dick, I just wanted to get you to like me, but instead all I’ve done is make a fool out of myself and then bring up a topic that hurts you.” He looked to Bruce. “Hurts both of you. Maybe I should just go…”

“No,” Dick said immediately, grabbing Clark’s wrist before he could even stand up. “Don’t leave. You haven’t done anything wrong in the slightest, and you don’t have to stress so much about getting me to like you. Because I already do.”

Clark’s breath hitched. “You do?”

Dick nodded. “Of course. I mean, at first I didn’t, because well, you were more or less trying to kill Bruce--”

“--actually, I was probably the one trying to do most of the killing.” Bruce interrupted.

“Whatever, water under the bridge now.” Dick waved a dismissive hand at Bruce. “Anyway, but then I saw how much of a hero you are. You sacrificed yourself to save Bruce, to save us all. And then, even after you were gone, Bruce fell for you. He literally would not rest until he brought you back. For someone to have that much of an impact on the no-nonsense, no-fun Bat -- let alone someone who was once his enemy -- well, that must be someone pretty important--”

“--Someone very important,” Bruce corrected.

“Yes, yes, _very_ important. Now stop interrupting, I’m in the middle of a heartfelt moment here!” Dick scoffed before looking back at Clark, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he spoke. 

“Lisen, I know this is awkward. I mean, we probably were in high school at the same time, and now you’re going to be my stepfather. But you don’t need to stress over being a good father to me. I’m thirty-two, and I’ve probably got more greys than you do!” Dick grabbed a fistfull of his scruffy dark hair, chuckling. “All I need is for you to take good care of Bruce. Be there for him, support him, love him, and make him happy. He needs it, more than he’ll ever let on, but if anyone can do it for him, it’s you.”

Clark exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. He felt relieved as if a thousand pounds of Kryptonite had just been lifted off of him. “I can do that.” He promised, his voice assured and devoid of any doubt. “I can gladly do that.”

“I know you can.” Biting down on his lip, Dick’s expression tightened and he averted his gaze. “And don’t let what happened to him hold you back. You two should definitely have a kid of your own together. Some day. That’s...that’s what Jason would have wanted.”

A chill ran up Clark as the name was uttered, and Bruce visibly tensed, his grip tightening around his coffee mug. 

“Yeah...he always used to tell me about how he wanted a younger brother,” Bruce said slowly, carefully. A smile tugged at the corner of Bruce’s mouth as he spoke. It never actualized, but still, Clark saw it. 

It was there.

Clark grabbed Bruce’s chin, tilting it upward and locking their gazes together. “Well, let’s give him that then. Never too late, right?” 

Shaking his head, Bruce gently leaned into Clark's touch. “No. Not too late at all.” That smile finally formed on Bruce’s face as he looked into Clark’s eyes, beautiful as it always was.

“But hey, one thing at a time! No kids born out of wedlock and all that,” Dick chirped, effortlessly bringing the conversation back to its lighter feeling once again. He was almost too good at that. “And remember, Clark, you always have your little Step-Bird to practice any parenting techniques on.”

“That better not mean reliving any ‘teenage drama queen Dick’ scenarios,” Bruce grumbled. “Once was more than enough, I am okay with those fading into distant memories.”

Dick shook his head. “No promises, B. If Clark wants the experience, then who am I to deny him?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on teenagers,” Clark said, thinking of his favorite Philadelphia-based superhero. “But if it gets you to come around more, then maybe a lesson or two is worth it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be around loads,” Dick said happily. “And maybe the Man of Steel could make a trip out to Bludhaven sometime? See a real hero like Nightwing in action?”

“A real hero, huh? Well, I never shy away from a chance to learn.” Clark smiled, bold and bright. “Thank you, Dick. Not just for that invitation, but for everything.”

“Anytime.” Dick paused, looking like he was considering something. But before Clark could even ask him if something was wrong -- or apologize for somehow messing things up yet again -- Dick was reaching over the table, his lanky arms wrapping around Clark and hugging him tightly. 

It should have been awkward and clumsy, given their brawny builds and the public setting, but somehow, Dick managed to do it with grace. 

Clark gladly returned the hug; any lingering worries or reservations that he had been harboring all but melted away when he heard the loving words that Dick said softly in his ear.

“Welcome to the family, Clark Kent.”

As Dick pulled away, Bruce scooted closer and wrapped a muscular arm around Clark’s shoulders, kissing his cheek. “Welcome indeed. It’s good to finally have you here.” 

“It’s good to finally be here.” Clark relaxed against Bruce, gazing lovingly up at his loving fiancé and then over at his not-so-little Step-Bird, who was busy stuffing his face with his lukewarm strawberry and banana waffles. 

They were now so much more than just Bruce Wayne and his ward, Dick Grayson. More than just Batman and his former sidekick turned independent hero, Nightwing. 

They were Clark’s family. And he couldn’t think of a more perfect one to call his own.


End file.
